


Red Water

by AdventTraitor



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M, Sinja, vampire!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdventTraitor/pseuds/AdventTraitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ja'far doesn't scare easily, but you would be spooked too if three famed hunters appeared before you, asking about a vampire in the area--you know, like your boyfriend is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stone that Started the Avalanche

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally found some motivation to write!! Please enjoy this Sinja goodness that has been rattling around for WAY too long in my brain. :D Also, if any of you are going to Anime Expo this year, I'll see you at the Magi gathering!! I'll be the Baal!Sinbad. ;D

The supermarket was Ja’far’s last stop before he could go home—and what a desirable thought, after being out and about nearly all day.  He glanced at the sun’s position—setting, almost dusk—before he walked into the store and out of the cold winter air, moving quickly to gather the items he needed.  As time went on, Ja’far felt a strange urgency to move more quickly, to leave and return to a safe place—

The reason behind the strange anxiety made itself known in the form of a boy with red hair, looking puzzled as he contemplated an aisle dedicated to sweets.  Ja’far blinked, his _other_ sense throwing up red flags at the sight.  He watched the boy sigh and walk toward two others with the same shade of hair—brothers, perhaps?  After watching for a few moments, Ja’far gasped with realization and moved as quickly as he could without drawing undue attention to himself .

The Ren siblings.

_Hunters._

Ja’far swallowed, his heart beating too quickly for comfort, before he moved to buy what he had and left.  He didn’t even grab half of the things on his list, but both the feel of the hunters so nearby and the knowledge of what would happen if he were found out had him too anxious to stay.  He made it outside and nearly to his car before he felt a hand grab at his arm, pulling him back slightly.

Ja’far wheeled around and was faced with the boy he’d seen earlier, causing his stomach to drop.  Of course, he kept his face serene, forcing a polite confusion to his expression.

“Ah…can I help you?” he asked, trying to pull his arm back, but the grip on it was very strong.

“Hey.  You feel funny,” was all he got in response.

The other two siblings joined them, walking over from the front of the store.  The one with the longer hair and freckles looked bored, while the one with the strange goatee looked angry, but Ja’far suspected that was just how his face looked.

“I…okay?” Ja’far blinked, not sure how to respond to that.

“Let’s be honest with one another,” the one with the goatee started.  “We’re the Ren siblings, as you’ve probably figured out by now.  We’re hunters.  And we know that you’re not just another human…tell us what you are, so we can rule you out of our investigation.”

Ja’far bit his lip, and decided some modicum of honesty might help him get out of this situation more quickly.

“I’m a clairvoyant—but not very gifted.  I wouldn’t be useful to you in any kind of investigation,” he murmured, largely downplaying his talents.  While it was true that he wasn’t the best in all of history, he had enough of his extra sense to gather a large picture of what was happening in the places he needed to know about—and that the Ren siblings had been able to fly under his radar was a testament to their skill at cloaking their own otherworldly trace.  The thought made him nervous.

“We don’t need a clairvoyant,” the one with the freckles drawled.  “But thanks for the info.  We’re actually looking for a vampire rumored to be wreaking havoc around here—wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

Ja’far nearly tensed, but answered without missing a beat.  “Vampires?  There was a nest a few towns over not too long ago, but…”

“Not a nest,” Goatee interrupted, “A lone vampire.  The signs don’t lead to an entire nest…it’s been more sporadic, less casualties than you usually see with a horde of vamps.  The problem is that they keep evading us, no matter how we try and approach them.  Makes us think they’ve got someone helping them.”

There was a rather accusatory silence for a few moments, before Ja’far huffed.

“And you think _I_ might be in league with a vampire?” he frowned, looking rather offended.

“Can’t rule it out just yet.  May I?” Goatee asked, reaching out a hand toward the scarf around Ja’far’s neck.

He rolled his eyes before undoing the knot himself, pulling the fabric free and shivering a little as the cold air hit his skin.  The three inspected his neck and teeth and gums (much to the bewilderment of those passing around them), and eventually the one with the goatee nodded.

“I can safely say you’re not a vampire, or being used by one…but we’ll be in contact.”  The three began to walk away before he called over his shoulder as an afterthought, “Let us know if you hear anything.”

Ja’far forced himself to nod, before he got in his car and started it.  He bit his lip, letting out a deep breath after the trio was out of sight.  He pulled his phone out of his pocket, noting the missed calls, before he dropped it in the seat next to his groceries.

He drove around for a while, ensuring that he wasn’t being followed, before he finally got home, well after dark.  Ja’far didn’t bother turning on any lights as he set the bags on the counter in the kitchen, knowing that his presence was already noticed by the one waiting for him.

“You were gone so long, I was beginning to wonder if you’re cheating on me.”

Ja’far huffed, turning to the shadow in the doorway.

“I was confronted by _hunters_.  And I had to drop the tracker they placed on me, as well as make sure they weren’t following me.  And with whom would I cheat on the great and powerful Sinbad, hmm?” he asked drily.

“Nobody, hopefully,” Sinbad smiled, stepping into the kitchen fully.  “Hunters come and go; don’t worry about them.”

Ja’far turned to look at the other with a crease of worry in his face, a frown on his lips.  “They’re asking about the rogue vampire we’ve been tracking.  If they find _you_ instead, you know they won’t just let it go.”

Sinbad hummed, stepping into Ja’far’s personal space and picking him up easily, nuzzling at his nose as the other wrapped his legs around his waist, if only for some semblance of balance.

“I figured as much.  We’ll have to be careful…and who knows, maybe they’ll even get rid of the pest for us,” he grinned, nipping at the soft skin of his neck and licking over the pulse he found.

Ja’far shivered, his fingers combing through thick purple locks.  “It’s the _Rens_ , Sin.”

Sinbad paused, looking up at Ja’far’s distressed face.

“Hakutoku’s children?”

“No…cousins, I think.  But still very dangerous.  We cannot afford to take their presence lightly, Sin…we’ve got to cover up all trace of your presence.”

The other sighed, pressing one last kiss to Ja’far’s throat before he set him down again.

“I’ll be careful.”  He made a face, his eyes fixated on Ja’far’s neck.  He knew Ja’far couldn’t see in the dark as he could—aside from his clairvoyance, he was just like any other human.  But the silence after his words was deafening, and his promise fell a little flat.

“Somehow, I rather doubt it,” Ja’far muttered, fidgeting.  “Will you listen more closely if I let you feed?”

Sinbad laughed lowly, more of a lion’s predatory purr than a human’s mirth.  “I could taste where they touched you.  I’ll have to make sure you wash properly afterwards.”  A long finger traced down the side of Ja’far’s face (his breath hitched), pausing on the racing pulse at his throat.  “They always look for signs of forced entry on the neck…you’d think by now that even the most dimwitted of hunters would realize that there are arteries located elsewhere on the human body.”

Ja’far could hear the smirk on Sinbad’s lips even as he was pulled to their bedroom, his clothes efficiently stripped from him in moments.  He felt the goosebumps rise on his skin as he heard Sinbad pulling his shirt off, able to see his outline from the light of the half-moon through the window.  Ja’far bit the inside of his cheek when he felt the bed dip, his eyes closing once he felt a hand on his side, and long hair touching at his face and chest.

Gray eyes opened to find yellow staring back at him.  There was still a familiar warmth to them, but even without noticing the blown pupils, Ja’far could sense the insistent hunger growing inside of him.  He took a deep breath, bringing his hands up to Sinbad’s face and pulling him down for a kiss.  He was quickly pressed down, forced into a submission he’d have fallen into willingly given the chance, and moaning quietly at the feel of the hands gripping his waist, the hips grinding into his, the sharp nick of a fang on his tongue.

Sinbad growled at the tang of blood in his mouth, pressing forward more insistently to get a better taste.  Only when Ja’far started whimpering did he force himself to pull back, loosening his grip on the other and gathering himself before he looked back down to his lover.

Ja’far was gasping for air, already feeling thoroughly worked over despite Sinbad not even having fed on him yet.  It was always like this—overwhelming, overpowering, _too much…_ but that’s exactly how he liked it.  He stared up at the other with glazed eyes, waiting for him to calm down enough to begin his controlled frenzy.

“It’s been a while…” Sinbad started hoarsely, his voice low and gruff and everything that made Ja’far want to squirm, “…so I…I can’t go for long.  Or I’ll hurt you for real.”

Ja’far hummed in acknowledgement, blinking slowly.  “I understand,” he murmured, watching Sinbad’s eyes flick to the nightstand, where a seemingly innocent jar of water sat waiting.

“I won’t need it.  I’ve never needed to hurt you with holy water before.  Have some faith in yourself.”

Sinbad chuckled darkly, sitting up slightly to pull his mass of hair over one shoulder, shuffling down until his lips rested on the soft, pale skin of Ja’far’s belly, nipping softly.  “You have absolutely _no idea_ how many times you’ve been moments away from dying.  This is such a terrible, awful thing for me to do to you…” he trailed off, before moving his face into the inside of a plush thigh, his tongue running over the many familiar scars his own fangs had left in the past. 

“…But I just can’t help myself.”

Ja’far cried out when he felt Sinbad bite down, his jaw locking as his fingers squeezed into the flesh of his thigh, trying to get as much of his blood out as he could.  Ja’far’s first instinct was to bury his hands into the other’s hair, scratch at his scalp and scream, cry and wail, but none of those things were helpful while Sin was feeding.  Ja’far got off on the pain, masochistic as he was, but as had been proven a few times in the past, acting vulnerable while a vampire was feeding only fed their baser instincts: hunting and killing prey.  He’d had his wrist broken for touching Sinbad while he fed once in the past (for which he’d gotten over a hundred apologies, all kinds of chocolate and flowers and no complaints for weeks afterwards—that last once especially had been nice), and so he simply bit down on his own lip, trying to ignore the aching of his own cock while he waited for Sinbad to finish, his hands fisting as he held them up near his face.

A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding left Ja’far’s lungs when Sinbad drew back suddenly, his own gasp for air filling the room before he was pulling at his pants, pushing them down past his hips and taking his cock in a hand, stroking quickly as he watched Ja’far scramble for the lube in the nightstand, quickly pressing his slicked fingers inside for as much preparation as he could manage before Sinbad batted his hand away, pushed him back down to the mattress and forced himself in with one quick thrust, Ja’far’s shriek echoing beautifully in his ears as he started a brutal pace, his yellow eyes intense on Ja’far’s face, those dark freckles nearly beaten out by the flush on his cheeks, his heaving chest, the muscles working in his abdomen as he took the jarring force from Sinbad’s hips, his flushed erection, down to the still-bleeding holes in his thigh, the dark liquid smearing onto his own skin as Ja’far’s legs clung to his waist.

Sinbad nearly stopped to go back to feeding at the sight, but the quickness of Ja’far’s heartbeat, the sluggishness of his movements—uncoordinated even for being in the middle of sex—the glassiness of his eyes when they were open—he was at his limit.

Ja’far gave the most erotic moan when he came, his back arching up as his hands fisted in the pillows above his head before he passed out, his entire body limp.

Sinbad came hard only moments later, grunting as he released deep inside the other, his hips jerking forward without any sense of rhythm until he was finished. 

Before he let himself think, Sinbad leaned over to grab at the towel they kept at the side of the bed for just this reason, applying pressure to the wound he created in Ja’far’s thigh.  By the time it had stopped bleeding, Sinbad had more of his inhibitions, checking to be sure he hadn’t hurt the other during his brief step away from his inhibitions.  After noting only bruises and the marks from his fangs, he cleaned the other up, opting to worry about the sheets later, before he wiped up the blood that had smeared across his own skin, unable to resist licking at the towel before he bandaged the wound and settled down next to Ja’far, monitoring his breathing while he slept (it was fast, and rather shallow, but fine for having just lost the amount of blood he did—and then having rough sex right afterwards).

There was just _something_ about the blood of a clairvoyant…something just made it _better_ than a regular human’s blood.

Sinbad nuzzled into snowy white hair, a sated smile on his lips before he let himself doze—or whatever the equivalent was for a vampire—until the other would awaken later.

 

* * *

Ja’far woke to the sound of a very insistent doorbell, and a very low growling against his ear.  He moaned pathetically, his head pounding from the loss of blood, and he felt blindly up Sinbad’s chest until he found his face, touching gently.

“Quiet…you know who it is?” he mumbled, not wanting to open his eyes just then.

“Hunters,” was the only reply for a moment.  “The Rens.  Their voices are annoying…grating.  And the little one needs to pipe down.  Thought you said they didn’t follow you?”

Ja’far nearly pulled the blankets up over his head to shield out the reality of the world around him, but the doorbell rang again, and he knew he had to get up.

“They didn’t.  I’ll…I’ll find out who told them,” he murmured distractedly, carefully pulling on sweatpants, then grabbing one of Sinbad’s shirts and pulling it on before he made his way to the door, doing his best to hide the limp in his gait.  He left the latching lock on so that the door could only open a few inches, eyeing the familiar brothers before him.

“Who told you where I live,” was Ja’far’s demand before any of them could start.

“…A witch by the name of Ka Koubun,” Goatee answered after a slight pause, and Ja’far sneered.

“I’ll make his life hell later,” he muttered, face darkening.  Hunters were generally bad news for any part of the supernatural community—snitching things like a home address to them was a breach of the social contract, and Ja’far had enough friends to make that bottom feeder wish he’d never settled in this part of the country…

Ja’far pulled himself from his machinations, remembering his current company and fixing them with a level stare.

“I’ve already told you, I don’t know anything.”

“Ka Koubun mentioned you had a…partner…that was connected to one of the vamps in the nest that was eradicated nearby a few years ago.  You mentioned it, actually, if you remember.  May we speak with him?”

“You mean he went after the one that killed his family?  That kind of connection?” Ja’far responded drily, taking a slight pleasure in the awkward way the three glanced away.

“We apologize for the…tactless way that was asked.  We were not informed,” the freckled one supplied quickly.  “But we’ve found ourselves stumped once more by this vamp who seemingly disappears without a trace.  We’re back to square one, and we’ve got to work with what we’ve got.”

“Whatever rogue vampire is causing the problem isn’t from the nest you’re talking about,” Ja’far answered emotionlessly, his head still throbbing with the sunlight really not helping.  He could feel the bruises pressed into his skin, causing an ache in his bones that normally would be rather pleasing, but with the stress of dealing with hunters at his _house_ , and his vampire boyfriend only a few rooms away from their sight, the pain coming from every injury sustained the night before was hardly putting him in a good mood.

“All those vampires died—the community here saw to that.  Whoever this one is, they’re not related, and Sin won’t have any useful information for you.  Besides that, he’s been rather sick recently, and isn’t up for visitors.”

Well, if they forced their way inside, they could play the illness card; that would explain the pallor of his once-tanned skin and the strangeness of his aura.  He could hide the latter rather well, but it still came across as odd to those trained in such arts.

There was a pregnant pause, in which the brothers glanced at one another in some kind of silent communication that made Ja’far’s eyes narrow.

“By ‘Sin’…do you by chance mean Sinbad?” the freckled one asked, his eyes only a fraction wider than they’d been before.

Ja’far sighed, cursing his thoughtless brain for allowing such information out.

“Yes…” he started, a long-suffering tone in his voice.  “But he gave up hunting once he found what he was looking for.  He’s been off the grid for a _reason_ , so please, leave him be.”

“Everyone wondered where he’d gone,” the small one laughed excitedly, ignoring Ja’far’s put-out stare.  “He’s the best hunter of _all time,_ please Mr. Clairvoyant person, I wanna meet him!”

Goatee looked like he was going to say something but stopped himself, looking to Ja’far for his reaction.  He sighed, shaking his head and getting ready to close the door.

“I’ve just told you, he’s not well.  His health has been in decline for a while now, and he really can’t take visitors, investigation or not.  Sorry to leave you back at square one.”  He closed the door, locked it, and replaced the fig branch that had fallen from the doorframe when he’d opened it.

Sinbad was there when he turned, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m okay.  Sorry I let that slip,” he apologized, making to move past him and toward the kitchen.

Sinbad caught him before he even began to take a step.  He picked Ja’far up, kissing the freckles on one cheek before moving through the house and dropping him rather unceremoniously on the bed, a stern look on his face as the other tried to protest.

“Quiet.  You’re on bedrest.  Like I said, don’t worry about the hunters.  They come and go…much like we do.  You’ve been wanting to pick up again soon, so once they leave, we’ll make the preparations.  Kay?”

Ja’far was frustrated when he could find nothing to argue with, his slow nod causing Sinbad to smile.

“Now,” he murmured, leaning over Ja’far and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “go to sleep.”

“…Kay.”


	2. Black Coffee

Ja’far sat quietly at a cafe table, sipping on black coffee as he scrolled through the documents he’d been sent regarding the lone vampire in their midst. The network of Hunters and others against rampaging non-humans was as vast as it was diverse, and Ja’far had many friends around the world. He saw nothing he wasn’t already aware of, but resigned himself to making sure there wasn’t even a minuscule detail he could possibly miss.

Goatee—Kouen Ren, that is—sat across from him, as Ja’far had expected. The red haired man had been watching him for the past forty-five minutes from the corner of the cafe where the sun shone brightly through the floor-to-ceiling walls, making neither a threatening move nor any indication that he was leaving any time soon. Ja’far couldn’t sense his brothers anywhere nearby, but that didn’t mean anything…not when he didn’t sense any of them coming into town in the first place. The thought brought an uncomfortable feeling to his chest.

“Can I help you, Hunter?” Ja’far asked monotonously, not glancing away from his computer.

“You’re Ja’far,” was Kouen’s only response. He was staring intently, causing Ja’far to shift in his seat after a few moments.

“Observant, aren’t you?” _How does one respond to something like that?_

“Then you have no reason to treat Hunters in such a manner, seeing as you _are one_.”

Ja’far finally looked up at the man across the small table from him, a deadpan stare fixed on his face.

“I have _never_ identified as a Hunter. If the price is right, I will lend my services if and when they are requested. Don’t throw me in with your lot.”

“And yet you’re rather… _involved_ with one, yes?” When there was no reaction, Kouen continued. “You were there, then. In Magnostadt. You fought alongside my cousins.”

Ja’far set his coffee down, eyes closing with a sigh.

“I was there for parts of it. If you’ve come here for answers, I’m afraid you’ll find none with me. _Or_ Sinbad,” he continued quickly, heading off the response that was sure to come from Kouen’s open mouth momentarily. “He isn’t well; do _not_ pester him, or you will have me to answer to.”

“I know you don’t mean to intimidate me, Clairvoyant,” Kouen huffed a laugh, “because I think we both know exactly where a fight between us might lead. In any case, I did not come here to threaten you or Sinbad. I came here to talk.”

“You might be surprised,” Ja’far muttered as he lifted his mug to his lips once more. “I have nothing for you. Hakuyuu, Hakuren, they’re both gone—and I didn’t see where to. They weren’t among the dead, nor the living. For all my power, I could not find them.” _Not to mention I was a bit_ …preoccupied _at the time right after the battle_ …

“People don’t simply vanish.” Kouen frowned, crossing a leg over his knee.

“And yet here we are.”

“You’re certain. You’re certain their remains weren’t among the dead?’

Ja’far grit his teeth and closed his eyes, taking a breath before he looked into Kouen’s gaze with as little frustration as he could muster.

“Kouen, you must excuse my inability to give you a clear answer, as I have held my position to since the very beginning.”

“You lied about who you were—what else are you lying about?”

“I never told you who I was,” Ja’far snarled. “I wasn’t concerned with your cousins. I didn’t know them apart from their reputation, and they weren’t paying my wage for the job. I didn’t keep an eye on them, I didn’t track their movements. When the battle ended, I was tending to a grave injury and had little else on my mind, so forgive me if my top priority wasn’t to babysit two seasoned Hunters and make sure they got home safely.”

Kouen showed no reaction aside from a slight hardening in his eyes, and a tightening in his jaw for only a moment.

“Sinbad knows less than I, considering the shape he was in at the end. If it’s a simple whereabout you’re after, go to my tribe in the north; you won’t find a better tracking spell elsewhere. But _leave us alone_.”

“...I’m working a job right now. Your presence was not an intended side stop, but since you were here, I thought I might try to find out what I could.” Kouen looked away, toward the big windows that showed a lovely day outside, bright sun and warm temperatures and laughing people. 

Ja’far was always more content in the shade.

“I have nothing else to add. I, too, have been tracking the rogue you’re after, but the patterns are erratic…almost random.” Ja’far frowned at his computer, eyes glassing over as he thought. “Almost like a rabid animal…”

Kouen blinked, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward. “You know a lot more than you like to let on, Clairvoyant. What have you gathered?”

Ja’far blinked, grimacing at the other’s interest. “I don’t know anything more than you. A rogue…something, out there brutalizing the people in this and the surrounding towns, leaving mutilated corpses dry of blood.”

“ _Something_ as in vampire. There’s no other explanation anybody else has been able to come up with.”

“Perhaps.” Ja’far took another sip of his drink, sighing as he thought. “Vampires don’t leave bodies broken, though—maybe a neck, but not an open rib cage like the victims have been left in these cases.”

“A rabid vampire might. If one is after blood and the heart has stopped beating, going straight to the source isn’t unreasonable—for a base animal, at any rate.”

Ja’far raised an eyebrow. “And who here has ever dealt with a rabid vampire before? Certainly not I. Besides,” Ja’far huffed, standing and closing his computer before picking it up, “it sounds far too scary for a civilian such as myself. Happy hunting.” He began to walk away, but looked over his shoulder just before he reached the door. “Don’t approach me again. Final warning.” And then he was gone into the crowd walking on the sidewalk, losing Kouen’s line of sight within moments as he moved toward his lover’s usual day-haunt.

————————

“On your six. Red hair, pink eyes. Definitely a Ren.”

Sinbad threw his drink back, nodding his acknowledgement at the young bartender—much too young, especially around this crowd—and tapped his glass on the counter for more. The bartender, young and blonde and with that air of boyish innocence that might have caught his attention earlier in life, kept glancing furtively to the individual in question, causing Sinbad to roll his eyes skyward with a sigh. If they weren’t keyed in before, they certainly were now.

Sinbad glanced up when he saw the barkeep tense, and felt a presence moving up behind him. He looked to the chair beside him, where the young Ren chose to sit with a heavy sigh. To his mild surprise, it was a girl; not one of the men who had visited several days before. After another swallow, Sinbad decided to head off the awkward silence that he knew would sit between them until she decided how to approach him.

“Hunters aren’t looked upon so kindly here, Miss. Best be on your way.”

“Takes one to know one, hm?” she responded, before signaling the barkeep for her order. He took it with narrowed eyes, but acquiesced. Money is money, after all—or so Ja’far liked to say.

“Anyone in this bar with a hint of self-preservation knows a Hunter when they see one. This isn’t a human-friendly place, so I’d finish your business quick,” he responded, inspecting the amber liquid sloshing around the bottom of his glass as he swirled it.

“Good thing you’re my business then, Mr. Sinbad. If you want me to finish quickly, help me be on my way,” she answered as though she knew she would get her way, turning completely on her stool to face him straight on.

Sinbad laughed, a deep, rich sound that was pleasing for anyone to hear. “Just because I’m giving you advice doesn’t mean I particularly care about your wellbeing, Kougyoku Ren.” He felt her tense at the use of her name, causing another chuckle to escape him. “I may have been a Hunter in the past, but I’m not anymore. And it’s not me you really need to worry about…more the rest of the fine patrons in this fine establishment.”

Kougyoku glanced around, noting how many unfriendly stares were directed her way before she looked back to Sinbad, who was watching the bartender pour his next shot.

“I need your help,” she reiterated quietly. “I’m not unwilling to compensate you for your time.” There was an edge to her voice—desperation, for her cause or because of how much danger she realized she was in, he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he could smell the fear, and it gave him the kind of buzz alcohol couldn’t hope to compete with.

“Years ago I wouldn’t say no, but I’m spoken for now.”

Kougyoku furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before she understood, making a disgusted face. “Don’t be disgusting. That’s not what I meant—and besides, aren’t you a little old?”

Sinbad scoffed, standing suddenly. “Is this how you ask everyone for favors? Can’t imagine your success rate is very high.”

“Please—“ Kougyoku grabbed at the sleeve of his shirt before Sinbad was out of range. He yanked his arm back, hoping she hadn’t felt the chill of his skin in that brief contact.

“Sorry. I don’t hunt anymore.”

“It’s not just about that,” she said quickly, that desperate edge causing goosebumps to raise on Sinbad’s skin. “My cousins, they’re missing. The last time anybody saw them was—“

“In Magnostadt. I know.” Sinbad straightened his shirt, frowning. “We weren’t particularly close, your cousins and I. There were a lot of Hunter folk in that particular raid, and it was impossible to keep track of anyone in particular, especially once the blood began to flow.” He glanced sideways at her, noting how young she looked—was everyone starting off before their teenage years now? “I’m sorry, Kougyoku. But I can’t help you.”

“Not even advice? To help me capture the rabid vamp?” After a few moments of silence, she continued. “You don’t have to, of course. But I’m going after it, whether you help me or not. I need to prove to my brothers that I can do this, that I can hunt just as capably as they can.”

“Then you’ve chosen one doozy of a first hunt, sugar. I’ve been keeping an eye on this one simply due to its proximity to us, and I wouldn’t want to be put in the same room as this monster.” _Never mind that it couldn’t kill me if it wanted to…which it wouldn’t. A beating heart is usually conditional to being vampire prey, as I well know._

Kougyoku was eyeing him suspiciously, causing Sinbad to raise a brow at her studious expression.

“Are you ill, Mr. Sinbad? Your aura is…odd.”

Sinbad cleared his throat. “Just…Sinbad. Please.” He looked away, cursing her Hunter’s ability for showing at such an early age. “Likely you’re sensing the terminal illness I’ve been _blessed_ with. It’s why I don’t hunt anymore.” _Well…technically it’s not a lie…_

Kougyoku’s face fell, and pity instantly replaced the skepticism she’d been eyeing him with before.

“O-oh…I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sinbad downed his last shot, throwing some bills on the counter and hollering at the barkeep to close his tab. “My advice, Kougyoku Ren, would be to choose a different job to prove your usefulness to your brothers. You won’t be of any use to anyone if you’re rotting in an alleyway because of your pride.”

Sinbad looked to the bar’s side door just as it opened, and smiled as he saw his lover step over the threshold. 

Ja’far walked over to him, sparing a glance at the girl before tugging at the hem of Sinbad’s untucked shirt to pull him out of the bar.

“You smell like an alcoholic. Let’s go home.”

“Love you too, honey,” Sinbad replied, grabbing Ja’far’s hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Stop it,” Ja’far pulled his hand back. “I think we’ve both had enough for today.” He looked at Kougyoku, who was quite obviously deflated. “I hope you haven’t had to deal with too much of an inquisition.”

“Not much at all.” They stepped out through the side door Ja’far had arrived through, and made their way down a tent-shaded sidewalk toward the subway. “The girl is too green to be working a job like this. Another Ren, by the way.”

“So I saw. One would think that with the amount of loyalty that family has to itself, she wouldn’t have been cast aside in the first place—I’m assuming she isn’t her with her brothers?”

Sinbad reached out and grabbed Ja’far’s hand before he could put it in his pocket, and smiled smugly at his victory. “No, she isn’t. The way she’s going, she’ll get herself killed. No experience, no backup, no _help_ …”

“No.”

Sinbad pouted, looking to the other as they began the descent into the subway. “No, what?”

“No, we are not going to help her. She’s made her decision, and now she’ll live with it—or die, as it may be. She’s not our problem.”

“She will be if she gets in the way.”

“Then she will die either way. I don’t play well with others, and neither, in case you have forgotten, do you, these days.”

Sinbad huffed an unintelligible response, but sat quietly at Ja’far’s side as they settled into their seats on the train, holding fast to the smaller, pale hand. There used to be a much greater difference in their skin tone; Ja’far, a snowy-pale tactician and weapons specialist, used to being holed up in a room with his nose in a book or laptop, raised by his tribe from the glaciers far to the north where the sun was little more than a myth…and Sinbad, the wayward traveling Hunter, used to long hours sweating in the sun as he sailed or drove or actively tracked down a lead for a job…

He had to stop that train of thought before the resentment rose within him. Not seeing the sun—truly seeing it, feeling its warmth on his skin and soaking up the vitamin D—really took a toll on him, mentally, emotionally, physically…because of course he had to be reminded in every way possible that he was no longer human.

Ja’far knocked his knee against Sinbad’s pulling him from his stupor with a flinch.

“Relax,” was all Ja’far murmured, tilting his head to rest on the other’s broad shoulder.

“One day, maybe,” he whispered, too quiet for Ja’far’s ears to pick up. _One day, I won’t have to live like this anymore…I pray you’ll understand._


	3. Uncertainties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!! Are any of you going to Anime Expo this year?? Unfortunately, I don't have any Magi cosplays lined up for the con this year. ;n; But if you're going, I'd sure love to meet you. <3

Sinbad took a long drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs before he exhaled slowly, watching it leave his nose and dissipate into the air around him. His body didn’t quite work the same way it used to, but perhaps it was simply the action—or maybe it was entirely in his head—but the occasional smoke still calmed him when he felt he needed it.

As expected, Ja’far came looking for him sooner rather than later, and pulled the stick from his mouth rather unceremoniously.

“Even if you don’t get cancer like the rest of us, it can’t be doing you any good,” he complained, dropping it on the ground and stamping out the burn under his shoe. “And besides that, you know I hate the smell.”

“I do know,” Sinbad repeated, though his voice was distant.

“Then why do you continue such a useless habit?”

Sinbad merely hummed in response, eyes vacant as he looked out over the backyard of the house, which overlooked a field before it gave way to a wooded area—the beginnings of the forest that covered the mountain they lived at the base of.

“Sin?”

He blinked, pulling himself somewhat reluctantly from his reverie to look at his lover.

“What?”

“I’m used to you choosing not to listen to me at this point, but I think you were in another world there for a moment.” Ja’far glanced away, before looking back without the confidence he always exuded. “…Is everything okay? Or is there something I should be worried about?”

Realizing he’d been caught, Sinbad forcibly shook his thoughts away and pulled out the radiant smile that had always worked when he was human, flashing it at Ja’far and hoping it looked as genuine as it used to.

“I’m fine. Lots to think about, you know—such as cancer probably being health concern number two at this point.”

Ja’far raised an eyebrow, content to fall into the regular routine of borderline offensive banter.

“Right. Well, you’d best get back inside; dawn approaches.”

“Mmhm.” Sinbad followed as Ja’far moved back toward the door, watching the unintentional sway of his hips as he climbed the steps.

“You didn’t have anything planned for today, right? Cause you wanted to lay low?” he asked slowly, trying to gauge the other’s mood.

Ja’far let out a small scoffing noise, stepping up to the counter in the kitchen to check on the coffee he’d started earlier.

“Fucking Rens are _everywhere_. I had rather hoped we’d be rid of the pest and away from this place by now…but with them here, it’s too dangerous to let them see you for any amount of time.” He threw a sideways glance at Sinbad. “You should have left as soon as you saw she was in there.”

“Kougyoku?” Sinbad laughed. “She was the best case scenario. Without fully developed senses, she wouldn’t have been able to tell anything about me, other than something wasn’t quite right. Incidentally, that is _exactly_ what happened, and she believed me without question. Now, she’ll run to her brothers and verify the story you already told them. Problem solved.”

“Problem _not_ solved. Now that they know you’re really here, they’ll be after you for information.”

“Yuu and Ren, eh? Aside from some Hunting 101, the girl was asking after them.”

“Yeah. And I don’t want to be the one to tell them what really happened.”

Sinbad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can we… _not_ talk shop for a little?”

Ja’far looked over, lowering his coffee mug. “…What do you propose, then?”

At the sly glance Sinbad shot him, Ja’far rolled his eyes and looked instead at his phone. “Insatiable beast.”

“Ah,” Sinbad smiled, making his way over and wrapping his arms around Ja’far’s slight waist. “But I’m _your_ insatiable beast. It’s a privilege, really.”

“For you, perhaps.” Ja’far bit down on the inside of his cheek when he felt Sinbad nuzzle into the crook of his neck, always slightly on edge from the feel of a predator so close to him. The thrill of it did as much for him as he knew it did for Sinbad.

Sinbad hummed a response, his hand falling down Ja’far’s stomach, and playing with the band of his pants.

“I don’t have enough in me for you to feed right now,” he murmured quietly, setting his phone on the countertop unsteadily.

Sinbad sighed, breathing in the scent of _alive_ coming from his lover, before pushing a hand down the front of the other’s pants, relishing in the gasp he let out.

“No need. I’m fine.”

_Not fine_ , he thought to himself, but he’d be damned if he let himself hurt the only person he cared enough for to stay around.

“I don’t…wanna tempt you,” Ja’far moaned, eyes shut tightly from the sensation.

“Your mere existence is tempting,” Sinbad replied, watching the artery in Ja’far’s neck quicken in pace with his heartbeat.

“Sin—“ Ja’far inhaled sharply and pushed him off gently, turning around and placing his hands on Sinbad’s chest to keep some kind of distance between them, however small.

Sinbad placed his hands over Ja’far’s wrists, glancing down to see Ja’far’s thin, pale fingers curling into his shirt. The faint scratch of his fingernails through the thin fabric made him grit his teeth for a moment, willing himself to keep his fangs hidden even as his upper lip twitched with anticipation.

“Sin, I’m serious.” Ja’far wouldn’t meet Sinbad’s eyes, choosing instead to study the buttons on his shirt, how the top three were undone and how there was nothing but skin underneath. “I know how you…”

“…Yeah.” Sinbad sighed, letting go of those thin wrists and turning away.

“No, wait—“ Ja’far reached out, catching the back of his shirt before Sinbad walked very far away. “I don’t…Sinbad, that’s not what I meant…”

“No, it’s exactly what you meant. I’m not angry.”

“You can…I mean, I want to…”

“Babe…don’t…” Sinbad exhaled before he continued. “Don’t force yourself. I hate that. And you do too.”

“I’m not,” Ja’far insisted, moving to press himself against Sinbad’s back, burying his face between his shoulder blades. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice muffled.

“I know.”

Sinbad pulled away, retreating down the stairs to stay below ground for the day and leaving Ja’far standing alone, staring at the floor.

—————————————————

“Ja’far, I can explain—“

Ka Koubun cut himself off at the expression on Ja’far’s face; cold, uncaring to his pleas, and angry. Ja’far stepped forward, a sense of pride and accomplishment (and, honestly, amusement) as he watched the frightened witch curl into himself.

“You know why I’m here, you pathetic excuse for a spell crafter. What else did you tell them?” Ja’far spat, his lip twitching.

“Nothing, _nothing_ —“

“ _Nothing?_ ” He walked around the table, looming over the pitiful ball the witch had made himself into on the floor. “I’m certain a home address isn’t the only thing they were able to squeeze out of you. If you don’t talk, being blacklisted everywhere this side of the world will be the _least_ of your worries, you _wretch_.”

“It’s…I don’t know anything. I had nothing to tell them.”

Ja’far’s eye twitched as he watched Ka Koubun’s quivering form, a hand shielding his face as though he feared a blow to his nose. _I wouldn’t start with the face, certainly not,_ Ja’far thought to himself. _The fingernails, first. Then the fingers…wrists…elbows…_

“And I’m sure you said nothing of Magnostadt either,” Ja’far scoffed. He was very sure Ka Koubun knew nothing of Sinbad’s condition, but anything he said might put two and two together for the hunters in town…and Ka Koubun would join the spirits he communed with before Ja’far would let that happen.

“Magnostadt?” Ka Koubun glanced up at Ja’far before cringing and turning away once more. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Don’t play this game with me, witch. I’m looking for one reason—one _single_ reason to end your existence, so please, continue on—”

A noise from within the pantry pulled his attention away, head whipping to the side where the door was closed.

“Who are you hiding?” Ja’far hissed, stalking over to the door and standing to the side, not waiting for an answer. Ka Koubun’s whimper was all he heard before he yanked the door open, magic ready in his hand before he saw the inhabitant.

“Kougyoku Ren. Why am I not surprised?” Ja’far stepped away from the pantry, eyes rolling. “If you’re looking for help with slaying the monster, I daresay you’re looking in all the wrong places.”

Ja’far turned his back on her, looking again to Ka Koubun. “I hope you enjoy cold, desolate places, because the ice desert around the south pole is the only place you’ll be able to go without tales of your cowardice and unreliability following you around. You can be certain of that.” He turned and left, hoping to get away from the Ren girl before she could call after him—but of course, her persistence got the better of her.

“Ja’far!”

He pretended not to hear her, continuing away from the house.

“Ja’far, wait! Please!”

“Stay out of this, Hunter,” he called back.

“I can’t!” She grabbed his arm, pulling to turn him around. “I can’t, especially since you do know something about what happened in Magnostadt! Please…please,” she gasped, her eyes tearing up.

Ja’far’s eyes narrowed, and he pulled his arm from her grasp as his annoyance grew with each passing second.

“I will not humor you as Sinbad does. He has a soft spot for Hunters and for pretty girls, but I don’t particularly care for either. I have nothing to say on any matter you wish to know about, and if you continue to pester us, I will kill you myself, and it will be ten times more painful than any fiend or monster could hope to achieve. Nobody will ever know what happened to you. Do you understand?” he smiled.

Kougyoku’s pink eyes were wide, her tears stopped out of shock.

“Make yourself scarce. Run to your brothers, I don’t care—but stay away from me and those I care about.”

Ja’far turned and got into his car, driving away without a second glance back to the girl whose tears had resumed as soon as his gaze left her.

In retrospect, he could have handled both situations with more tact and grace, but the discussion with Sinbad earlier had unsettled him. He couldn’t be angry at Sin—it wasn’t his fault. The anger and frustration couldn’t be expressed by directing it inward…and so, Ka Koubun had been a convenient punching bag, as he had needed a talking-to in any case. Kougyoku had been a bonus, as Hunters aggravated and put him on edge. If she _did_ go back to her brothers, which he doubted considering her stubbornness, it would definitely invite more attention from them than he wanted…he hoped she would remain aloof, trying to work things out on her own.

_Here I am, causing more problems than solutions. When have I ever been so careless?_

Ja’far walked in the house he shared with Sinbad, closing the door behind him and locking it. He sat on the couch in the living room, rubbing his eyes with his fists and willing the tension to leave his body.

“Rough afternoon?”

Ja’far jumped, looking to the stairway and seeing the top of Sinbad’s head from over the floor, two golden eyes watching him from the shadow cast by the couch.

“…You could say that.” Ja’far looked away, sinking into the cushions.

“Must have been, if you didn’t notice me walking up the stairs. Well, as far as I can, anyhow.”

“Yeah. It…didn’t go as planned.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Sinbad raised an eyebrow. “Tough. Tell me.”

“No.”

Sinbad smirked without any mirth, his jaw clenching in frustration. “You know, it’s not fair of you to be like this when you know there’s nothing I can do without _setting myself on fire._ ”

Ja’far huffed, his frustration rising with the tone in Sinbad’s voice.

“What, if you could come over to me, what would you do? Beat it out of me? _Fuck_ it out of me? Bleed me dry? That’s romantic. Good communication skills, too; you should write a book.”

Sinbad blinked, his anger skyrocketing before he forced it down again, not allowing himself to give into the heightened emotions that vampirism caused so easily.

“Fine. Let me know when you’re done throwing your tantrum.” He began to walk back down the stairs, cracking his knuckles as he took deep breaths to calm himself down.

“I told her I’d kill her,” Ja’far called after him, defeat in his voice.

Sinbad paused, moving back so he could see Ja’far’s profile, as he wasn’t facing him any longer.

“What?”

Ja’far swallowed, not moving. “I lost my temper, and when I found Kougyoku Ren hiding in Ka Koubun’s house, I told her I would kill her if I ever saw her again.”

“You don’t do that anymore,” was Sinbad’s flat reply.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. A lot.”

“Well, that indiscretion probably just caused a lot more problems for the both of us.”

“…I know.”

“I doubt she was that much of a threat to you. Don’t tell me you’re just feeling frustrated, because you hold yourself in check much better than that.”

“I’m not perfect,” Ja’far protested. “Maybe I’m not exactly human, but mostly. I have the same emotions.”

Sinbad’s eyebrows raised as he deciphered Ja’far’s roundabout way of expressing himself, a slight amusement replacing the anger and hurt he experienced earlier.

“You’re jealous…of _her?_ ”

Ja’far looked away, refusing to let his lover see his face as he felt the flush of humiliation creeping up his neck.

“A young, inexperienced, naive little Hunter? You’re jealous of _that?_ ” he laughed, the absurdity of the situation amusing him more than it probably should.

“Tell me you didn’t once go for just exactly what you described, and I will douse you in holy water for lying.”

Another chuckle pushed its way out of him before Sinbad answered.

“I won’t deny that, but…Ja’far, things are so different now. Do you really think I’d want to be around a Hunter of all things right now?”

“Yes, and if you were still a Hunter…”

Sinbad sighed, his eyes softening. “Do you remember our first meeting?”

“Don’t even go there.” He felt his face heat up for a different reason entirely, recalling those memories.

“Too late. What do you think you have to worry about? I wanted you then, I still want you now.”

“You were a very free spirit then. I think, had you the choice, you still would be now.” Ja’far hated feeling this way, knew it was childish and unreasonable, but he couldn’t help it. He put on a cool facade in public, but everything melted away when he was alone with Sin, and he had long since given up trying to hide that.

“Maybe,” Sinbad allowed. “But I could just as easily go off on my own and survive. I’m here by choice, because I don’t want to be without you.” Usually, Sinbad kept the loving comments and declarations to himself, because Ja’far detested hearing them. He never had an issue expressing himself—especially with stronger emotions like these—and so reassuring Ja’far of his affections came as easily as breathing to him. He wished he could reach out and touch Ja’far’s face, pull him close and show instead of tell, but this was just one more thing to remind him about how limited he was in this new life. He remained standing on the stairs, able only to see a part of his lover curled into the couch, and unable to move.

“Ja’far, I would like it if you came over here,” he requested softly, quelling the frustration with himself as best he could.

“I don’t deserve anything from you. Just leave me be,” was the quiet response.

“Hush. Come here.”

Ja’far sighed, standing and moving around to the top of the staircase, stepping down the stairs until he was just on the light side of the shadow Sinbad stood in.

“You show more emotion to me than to anybody else in this world,” Sinbad stated. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so uncertain before.”

“It’s just…there’s just a lot going on right now. I think I need to rest and…start again tomorrow, I guess.”

Sinbad nodded, holding up a hand within the shadow as an offering.

“Darkness will provide you with rest… _I_  can provide you with comfort.”

Ja’far hesitated for a moment, remembering the uncertainty from the morning when he’d pushed Sin away—before his hand crossed the line the shadow created, and he let Sinbad pull him close.

He let Sin push him gently down into his bed, let his hands grab his hips, let his teeth graze his neck, let himself forget about anything other than the man on top of him, inside of him, the sound of his voice, the way his body tensed and relaxed with every thrust…

If only it were as easy as letting everything go in the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I would update this before it sat for an entire year--and I met my goal with several months to spare!! Yay me!! X'D

Darkness bred confusion, turmoil, and terror. Ja'far's breaths were ragged and short as he ran desperately in any direction away from that— 

No time to think, only to run. They’d ended up in the forest that created the barrier between town and mountain, the trees dense enough that their canopies blocked the stars and moon from reaching the ground. Ja’far had only the flashlight on the back of his phone to light his way, though his hurry and panic caused him to stumble over roots and piles of rotting leaves more often than not.

A horrid _screech_ rent the air around him, spurring him on as he ripped a hand through his bangs, the sweat trickling from his scalp slicking it back for a few moments as he fled.

“God _damnit_ , Sinbad,” Ja’far snarled, the wretched howling growing nearer by the moment, the icy night air biting into his skin.

The tree just in front and to his right exploded in a shower of dead branches and leaves, a gruesome shadow landing in its wake and stirring dirt into the air with its heavy footing. A swipe of its bloody claw caught Ja’far’s shoulder, his phone thrown from his hand after illuminating a moment of white fur and black, beady eyes only inches from his face, putrid breath screaming out from behind pointed, rotting teeth.

Ja’far hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs before he was picked up by the ankle and dragged some distance, his head ringing and vision fogged. Some minutes later, he found himself hanging upside down over a sturdy branch, tied with an even sturdier knot. 

When the world stopped spinning quite so violently, Ja’far blinked through the darkness, willing his eyes to adjust more quickly. The monster and its rotting stench was gone—for now. The silence was eerie in its wake, and Ja’far had no desire to wait for its return.

“Oh yes, Ja’far, it’s got to be a _werewolf_ ,” he mimicked Sinbad, throwing his voice an octave lower. “It’ll be _easy_ , just _stick to the plan_ ,” he spat, flipping a short blade out of his boot and into his hand. “I _know_ you’re a bloody _clairvoyant_ , but I’m just going to disregard what you think and go with my _almighty Hunter’s instincts_ ,” he grunted, scowling at the pain in his shoulder as he flexed upward to cut at the rope binding his ankles together.

“A goddamned werewolf my ass,” he gasped, the rope fraying under his blade’s serrated edge. “From the first silver bullet, abso-fucking-lutely no effect.” 

The rope snapped, and Ja’far landed heavily on his side, a groan escaping him before he forced himself up. 

“Fucking wendigos,” he snarled, twisting his blade around his hand in a familiar, nervous gesture. A howl split through the darkness just then, causing Ja’far to freeze and try to judge the distance. No matter; even if the monster were further away, the forest was its territory, its home field. There was no escaping—not until it was dead.

Ja’far moved in the direction the wendigo’s call came from, blade held out before him. His steps were more sure than before, when he’d been running blindly, but still the gnarled roots and untamed forest made finding a sure footing difficult at best—the cover of night made it impossible.

There was no sneaking up on this monster.

A long-suffering sigh, and Ja’far continued forward, the breath clouding out with each exhale a testament to the chill in the air. One well-timed shot, and the wendigo would be stunned. If he could just see the damned thing…

A crash from the canopy above him, and Ja’far jumped back, landing in a crouch with his blade ready to strike—before he blinked and stood, his knife held limply at his side.

The wendigo—what was left of it, anyway—landed before him, white fur stained a deep crimson, crusting into black. The front of its body was rent apart, blood and organs splattering onto the ground and his own clothing. Ja’far squinted up into the tree where a light shone down, before it fell to the ground in the form of a phone, held by none other than Sinbad.

“Not exactly what I imagined when we left earlier tonight, but…well, the job is done.” Ja’far imagined Sinbad shrugging, and caught the phone that was tossed to him. He turned the light to his lover, and took in the sight of him—blood smeared across his face, over his mouth, dripping down his entire front…

It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but seeing him in such a state always put a twist in his stomach.

“I’m going home,” was all Ja’far deigned in response, before turning and walking the way his senses pointed him to leave the forest.

“Babe,” Sinbad started, but Ja’far cut him off with a hiss.

“Burn it before it regenerates. I’m going home,” he repeated.

At least Sinbad had the sense not to follow him.

At the edge of the forest, where dense trees gave way to open fields that led to houses, Ja’far paused when he sensed he was not alone.

“I don’t have the patience for this. Show yourself or prepare to pull a knife from your throat,” he called, exhaustion in his voice.

“Peace, clairvoyant. By the looks of things, my presence wasn’t needed after all.”

Ja’far closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Kouen. I appreciate the gesture, but no, you are not needed. Be on your way.”

“It was a wendigo, no?” he asked, his silhouette leaning against the trunk of a tree.

“It was. Now it’s dead, and I’m going home.”

“Did you burn it?”

“Do you take me for a fool?” Ja’far snarled, his lip curling. “It’s burnt. It’s dead. It’s not coming back. Don’t follow me back to my house.”

“Sinbad is still out there, in the forest. Isn’t he?” Kouen asked slowly, his form unmoving.

Ja’far rolled his eyes up to the sky, where he could now see the stars in the absence of the forest above him. He wasn’t a religious person in any sense, but still he prayed for patience and for mercy, that he might not kill the man before him.

“Sin is probably asleep in bed. I don’t relish a Hunter’s work, but considering you lot didn’t even seem to be aware of the thing yet…it came too close to the house. I had to neutralize it.” He turned toward Kouen, who was standing straight now. “Sinbad is not a Hunter anymore. I believe I warned you about bothering him. Do what you must about the menace you came here for, but leave him out of it.”

“I won’t; not if he has something to do with it.”

There was silence for a few moments, before Ja’far replied quietly, his voice every bit as sharp as the metal he still held in his hand.

“Then you may well find yourself in an early grave, Kouen Ren, and it won’t be from the teeth or claws of a monster.”

“I don’t take your words lightly, Ja’far, but I know something is going on here…and you’re a part of it. I may not have the gifts of a clairvoyant, but I know when I’m being lied to.” He moved forward then, until he was standing just in front of the other. “Why are you making this so difficult? What aren’t you saying?”

Ja’far narrowed his eyes, looking up into the shadowed face of the Hunter before him.

“There’s nothing to tell. Sinbad is ill, and a wendigo moved into the woods behind our house in the past few days. Something is out there, stalking people and draining them dry of blood and taking their hearts, and you are out late at night, skulking around my house, accusing me of hiding something with no evidence at all. Perhaps your priorities need rearranging.” Ja’far began to walk away, across the field that gave way to the house he shared with Sinbad.

“I’d ask you to give Sinbad my best, but I’m guessing he can hear me himself,” Kouen called after him. “I went to warn you about the wendigo, and searched your house when I got no reply.”

Ja’far stopped, his eyes hardening.

“I expect we’ll have more to talk about later, then. Good night, Ja’far…Sinbad.” Kouen took his leave, tromping out across the field in another direction, not bothering to even glance back at Ja’far’s statuesque form.

“Problem after problem after problem,” Sinbad murmured from the shadows, though Ja’far remained unmoving. “We may have to do something about them…”

"I don't do that anymore,” Ja’far replied emotionlessly, before he began to walk once more toward the house.

Sinbad shrugged, lacing his bloody hands behind his head as they made their way through the pasture. “I’ll do it, then.”

“By all means, do as you will. You don’t care what I have to say, anyway.”

Sinbad glanced sideways at Ja’far, letting the silence sit between them for a few moments as he considered the best way to answer.

“I should have known it was a wendigo. I’m sorry it happened the way it did,” he settled on, knowing that no matter what he said, it wouldn’t sway Ja’far’s mood.

“What’s done is done,” was Ja’far’s cold reply.

Sinbad was resigned to silence, Ja’far entering the house without looking back, the shower turning on moments later. Sinbad remained outside, removing his blood-ruined clothing piece by piece until it lay in a heap on the ground. With nobody around and not another house for some distance, he looked up to the moon, the blood dried and crusting on his face. 

_This life really isn’t for me_ , Sinbad thought dully, sighing. _Can’t even tell a werewolf from a wendigo anymore…it’s all just meat and blood to me now._

He gathered his clothing, bringing it inside to dispose of later, and closed the door behind him.

—————————————————————————————————————

Instead of waiting for the Rens to come skulking about their property again, Ja’far decided it was best to meet them head-on, in a venue of his choosing.

“It’s not smart,” Sinbad grunted, picking at the blood that had dried under his fingernails. The sun shone through one of the windows in the adjacent kitchen, the morning bringing with it the songs of birds flitting around between tree branches and flower petals. None of it had lightened Ja’far’s sour mood.

“We’ve no other choice, now. If they see you…”

“I’d half-welcome it,” Sinbad muttered, chin falling in a hand as he sat at the dining room table. 

Ja’far eyed the heavy curtains that covered the windows nearest the other man, the itch to pull them open growing in him. “What do you suggest, then? Shall we slay them all, and rain down the wrath of the entire Hunting community on our own heads?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest.

“I was only joking when I said we should kill them,” Sinbad frowned. “We need to get what we came here for in the first place. Then we can disappear, and all will be well again.”

“And do what with the Rens in the meantime? Ignoring them hasn’t done any good—what is it?”

Sinbad was looking to the front door, eyes wide as he listened. He was still for several moments—so still it unnerved Ja’far—until he blinked, took an overdue breath, and looked to his lover.

“How about this—we let them see me.”

Ja’far would have spit out his tea if there was any in his mouth.

“What? And have them—“

“There are still wards on this house—they dampen Hunters’ abilities in general, right?”

“…And clairvoyants’ abilities, as well,” Ja’far frowned. “If you let them in here, I won’t have any advantage over them. And they may be strong enough to see through the wards…they evaded even my senses when they came into town, remember.”

Sinbad shrugged, his mouth quirking to the side. “If they keep after me, we’ll never be left alone. Make them think I’m really as sick as they’ve been told…and anyway, they’re here again. Best to get it over with, I think.”

Before Ja’far could protest any further, there was a knock on the door. Sinbad smirked, getting up to answer. “Go down to the bedroom or something, you’d never let me answer the door if I were really this ill,” Sinbad whispered.

Ja’far scowled, but did as he was told, disappearing down the stairs in the blink of an eye. Sinbad let them wait a minute or two, until another, more insistent knock sounded.

“I know you’re in there, Ja’far,” came a muffled call from the other side of the door.

Sinbad opened the door, the chain lock only giving a few inches.

Kouen blinked, fist still raised when he saw Sinbad’s tired gaze instead of Ja’far’s.

“He’s sleeping right now,” Sinbad answered hoarsely, mentally congratulating himself on his performance thus far. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wake him up. He was out late last night, you see…”

Kouen was accompanied by his brothers once again, three sets of pink eyes blinking at him owlishly.

“…Well, if that’s all…” he trailed off, beginning to close the door.

“Wait,” Kouen answered quickly, putting a hand on the door to keep it from shutting. “Sinbad…it’s really you?”

Sinbad raised an eyebrow, nodding. “And you must be the Rens I’ve heard so much about…Ja’far isn’t very fond of you.”

“He’s a rather private person, I’ve gathered. We don’t mean any harm, however.”

Sinbad eyed the Ren brothers—notably without their sister—with suspicion. The youngest was looking at the part of Sinbad he could see with open enthusiasm, held somewhat in check by the one with freckles. He looked bored, but his heartbeat was fast; he was nervous. The eldest, Kouen, was being careful. He remained guarded, his pulse steady. He would be harder to persuade.

“If we may…we have some things to discuss with you, if you feel up to it,” Kouen suggested evenly, hand still pressed against the door.

“I’m not sure Ja’far would allow you into our home…again,” Sinbad replied, blinking.

“Ah…well, perhaps from one Hunter to another, then. Would you hear us out?”

Sinbad considered, knowing that there was nothing incriminating in the house. He sighed, looking resigned. 

“Alright. But when Ja’far finds you in the house, you’re on your own.” Sinbad raised his eyebrows until Kouen removed his hand, allowing him to close the door and remove the lock. When the door opened again, the Ren brothers filed in, taking in their surroundings.

“Just…into the living room, if you would. I think you’ve already seen enough of the house,” Sinbad cautioned, eyeing the youngest brother as almost disappeared from sight.

“Ah…about that, my sincerest apologies,” Kouen started, settling down onto the couch. “It was just me, last night. When I didn’t get any answer at the door…I had heard you were ill, and I was unsure if Ja’far was able to fend the wendigo off, so I wanted to be sure that you were both alright…” he trailed off, looking to Sinbad.

Sinbad remained silent, falling heavily into a love seat set across from the three brothers. The quiet stretched until the youngest cocked his head, looking around the parts of the house he could see, from the open window in the kitchen to the dining room to the other side of the living room. 

“Hey Sinbad, why d’you have all the curtains closed?” he asked with wide eyes.

Sinbad raised a thick eyebrow, feigning exhaustion by leaning on one side of the chair.

“The sun doesn’t always agree with me…the medication I take makes me rather susceptible to burns.” _Very intense burns_ , he thought with a grim smile.

“Quiet, Kouha,” Kouen reprimanded, shooting a warning glance to his youngest brother. When he looked back to Sinbad, Kouen had a question in his eyes, though he remained silent.

“Where was I last night…is that what you want to ask?”

Kouen tipped his chin up, his expression expectant.

“I have good days and I have bad days, Kouen Ren. And when there is a monster quite literally in my backyard, it doesn’t matter what kind of day it is—I will eliminate the threat.”

“Or he’ll die trying.”

The brothers looked back, seeing Ja’far standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Sinbad smiled weakly, holding out a hand to beckon him over with.

“Come here, my love; I’m still quite alive, as you can see.” 

Ja’far made his way over, frowning at the brothers opposite them when he settled next to his lover. 

“Why did you let them in?” he asked, his eyes settling on each brother in turn.

“It’s rude to leave our guests at the door, don’t you think? Especially when they’re so insistent.”

Ja’far’s eyes settled on Kouen’s, his expression flat. “When you told me Sinbad wasn’t in the house last night, I had to go back into the forest to find him. Nearly dead on the ground, weak as a newborn colt, the fool.”

He felt Sinbad tense next to him, and nearly smiled when the other said nothing in his own defense. _Serves you right for putting me through this_ , he thought briefly.

“Once a Hunter, always a Hunter,” he supplied eventually, though Ja’far could detect a hint of his wounded pride in his voice.

“Be that as it may…”

“Let’s be done talking about my failings last night.” Sinbad moved, leaning to put an arm around Ja’far, pulling him close. The grip was somewhat tight, though Ja’far supposed he deserved that. “What is it you wish to talk about?”

Koumei shifted, sharing a glance with Kouen before he spoke.

“We came here for the vampire. We want to know what you know,” he answered softly.

“Oh…and what do we know, exactly?” Sinbad smiled, looking to Ja’far.

“Nothing that they don’t already know,” Ja’far huffed, pushing a strand of hair from Sinbad’s forehead.

“Please, don’t play coy. We mean to put an end to it, and forgive me for saying so, but I highly doubt you both just happened to settle in the place where carnage unlike any we’ve seen before has surfaced.”

Ja’far considered the middle brother. “In case you haven’t noticed, Sinbad isn’t really one for hunting these days…no matter how well he thinks he still can.” He gave a pointed look to his lover when he saw his mouth open from the corner of his eye. “And I only take on the contracts given to me by my tribe. I’ve no interest in what’s happening, so long as it stays at a distance from me.”

“And how long has it been since you’ve seen the ice fields in the north?”

Ja’far cocked his head, blinking slowly at Kouen, whom had asked the question.

“I don’t see what concern it is of yours, Hunter. And in fact, I believe our hospitality is at its end. I’m sure you can show yourselves out.”

“Ja’far—“

“Perhaps we give them a tidbit, hm?” Sinbad whispered into his ear, nuzzling his hair. “Make them leave with nothing, and they’ll just come back.”

Before Ja’far could disagree—yet again—Sinbad gave a withering smile to the Rens, and lifted a hand in surrender.

“I told you Ja’far wouldn’t take kindly to your presence. But before you go…we truly have no more knowledge of the situation than you. Ja’far and I have been taking note of what we’ve heard thus far, and we fear it’s not a vampire.”

“Then what?” Kouha asked, sitting forward.

“Some kind of…hybrid, maybe…or perhaps an Alpha.”

Kouen chuckled, looking up to the ceiling. “If I wanted fairytales, I’d have gone to one of those human seers who sell pretty lies.”

Ja’far’s eyes narrowed, his fingers tightening around one of Sinbad’s hands. “Then perhaps you should be on your way, rather than listening to a powerful clairvoyant and the most famous ex-Hunter. And good riddance, too.”

“I find it hard to believe this is your only conclusion,” replied Kouen, interlacing his fingers.

“Believe or don’t believe, that’s your concern. And you are not ours. Get. Out. Of my house.”

Kouen glanced to Sinbad, who shrugged. “His house, his rules. I’d probably get going, if I were you.”

The Rens stood, a movement so in sync with one another that Ja’far’s hair stood on end. They made their way to the door, Koumei and Kouha leaving immediately, though Kouen turned to look back at the two before he too stepped over the threshold.

“I’m not sure what ails you, Sinbad, but it’s not a human illness. I will put an end to this, and I hope for your sake that you’re not a part of it.”

Ja’far stood, lightning quick and just as dangerous. “And then you and the rest of your family will become the hunted. I will gut every single one of you, and my fondness for your cousins will not save a single hair on your head should you come after him.”

Kouen remained calm, though his eyes hardened. “And here I thought you didn’t know my cousins very well.” He turned and left, the door shutting heavily behind him. Koumei raised an eyebrow, to which Kouen shook his head.

“I don’t know if he’s a part of it, but he’s…something. Best one of us keeps an eye on them. The spell is working to keep Ja’far’s powers at bay; we can keep it up until we discover the root of the problem, I’m sure.”

Within the house, Ja’far’s lip was curled over his teeth, his breath escaping in a hiss.

“I’d nearly forgotten your fondness for Yuu, my love,” Sinbad chuckled. Ja’far couldn’t tell if it was genuine humor or sarcasm.

“Never mind that. This is what I feared, Sin, and now we must deal with the consequences.”

“So we must. Kouen won’t move against us without starting something he won’t want to finish.” Sinbad stood, placing his hands on Ja’far’s shoulders. “I’m not worried. Let the Rens come with their threats and their angry pink eyes. If they try to divide their attention, they’ll be slaughtered…either by the pest, or by me,” he smirked, looking over to the window and running his tongue over a sharp fang. “And then we’re free to move about once more. I’ve seen the carnage left behind; I’m certain I can recreate such a scene.”

Ja’far was looking at him with an odd expression, his pulse slowing the way it did when he acquiesced to feeding his lover.

Just like when he was afraid.


End file.
